Broken Ultimatum
by Nocturnal Bastard
Summary: An ultimatum by Dumbledore forces Harry out on the Muggle London Streets, but what happens when his friends on both sides loves him too much to let the man get away with it?


I wrote this story a while ago and I've just been waiting for a time to post it, and since I posted a new story _and _updated Family Trait and Family Connect tonight, I guess now is just a perfect time as ever.

Thanks to DarQuing for the beta'ing.

_Everything was quiet. The battles between the Light and the Dark had ended the moment Harry had reached Voldemort. The pair stood in the middle of the not-so empty field with hundreds of Death Eaters, Aurors and Order-members staring breathlessly at them._

_Harry looked at the gorgeous man in front of him. Neither of them had their wands drawn as they looked at each other with sad expressions, Did it come down to this? Neither can live while the other survives, indeed. They had lived for months._

_He closed his eyes momentarily, it wasn't worth it. It. Was. Not. Worth. It. he thought angrily. Harry walked over the dry grass covering the ground to reach his believed enemy. No one did anything but watch, least of all Voldemort._

"_Love," he began, tears pressing their way out of his eyes, "I love magic, I love this world, Nothing will ever change that, but I love you more. I have for months and I will forever."_

_Thanks to the man's immense height, Harry had to look up to meet the red eyes, "Kill Dumbledore for me?" he reached up on his toes and pressed a tender kiss on the beautiful lips before he turned around and Apparated away._

Harry woke with a start. His breathing was harsh after once again reliving the worse day of his life. It was a recurring nightmare of his, along with many other days that brought him happiness and pleasure when they originally occurred, but now only brought him pain and suffering.

He sighed and got out of his shabby bed. It wasn't worth mulling over, it was in the past. Eight months in fact. Eight horrible months, but rather that than killing the love of his life, he thought. A quick look at the small alarm clock on his nightstand showed him that it was time for breakfast. Or lunch rather, but lunch had turned to breakfast in the same way dinner turned to lunch while sometime during the night was dinner.

Not many were looking for a whore before noon anyway; it was a good time to catch up on sleep.

After Harry had left the battle, it had taken less than half an hour for Dumbledore to follow through with his threat should Harry fail to kill Voldemort. All of his money, estates, shares in different businesses and everything else of value from the Potter and Black-lines had been frozen.

Harry had been left with the three galleons he had happened to have in his pocket at the time. That, along with his Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, a shard from the two-way mirror left from Sirius and a few letters from Voldemort. Well, his wand of course and the clothes he wore at the time.

He had quickly learned that this was not enough to get by in London. He had no place to stay, first of all, so beauty sleeps were few and long apart and happened in the subways. Food had also been a great motivator to learn wandless magic, as stealing it was much easier that way. Despite this, after a month, he had no plans on what to do and no ways of getting money, as he was only 16. That is until he met Duncan.

Duncan was about his age and very pretty if he had actually been healthy. He never gave Harry a reason to why he lived the way he did, but they never were close anyway. The teen showed Harry a way of making money and at least getting by.

By selling his body.

Harry had said no right then, right there. But after another two weeks on the streets, he had given in.

That was little over six months ago. Since then, he had managed to get a hold of a small apartment where the landlord didn't ask questions. It was only a one-roomer with a bathroom. The room had a small cooking area to right of the door. To the left was the door to the small bathroom where everything was packed together in greyish colours. Opposite the door was a lonesome window over-looking the streets and alleys where he worked. Next to the window and opposite the cooking area was a large bed. Other than that there was a small coffee table in front of a TV that Harry had gotten hold of for a ridiculously low price. There was no couch though so he generally sat on pillows from the bed. All around the walls were different cupboards that he kept most of the clothes and other stuff he needed for his profession. All in all, it was small but cheap and much better than the streets.

After being unable to work in the last two days because he had been sick, he had very little money left. After a quick count he determined he could get his breakfast and a package of cigarettes with what he had left. Smoking was a bad habit, but the nicotine helped somewhat and he would be damned if he tried something heavier. No, drugs were not an option.

Harry quickly showered and got dressed in gym-pants and a white t-shirt before grabbing his jacket and left the small apartment he called 'home'.

Less than an hour later and Harry stood leaned against the outer wall of the building he lived in. After getting back from the small café a few blocks away, he had switched to a more seductiveoutfit consisting of simple schoolgirl skirt and stockings. Along with that he wore a tattered white shirt. His hair was ruffled more than usual and thin traces of eyeliner around his eyes. After six months he had learned what attracted people the most, and today he needed the money badly.

His wand was wandlessly Disillusioned inside one of the stockings. Harry never worked without it in case it was needed; it hadn't been needed so far though. In fact, he hadn't used his wand once since leaving the Magical World. And his wandless magic had greatly increased. Soon enough though, he would be 17 and free to use his wand and therefore more powerful magic. Until that day, Harry would be stuck here but after that, he would use whatever spell he could to leave and live a better life.

It was shortly after one o' clock and all he could do now was look pretty and wait. As no one was in sight at the moment, he used this opportunity to smoke. Buying the longest kind was cheaper and they could be smoked in half, saved and then smoked again, which saved more money.

A few minutes later, a familiar young woman walked in on the street, although he couldn't quite place her, he had the feeling he'd seen her before. She looked curiously around before she continued walking. She was quite pretty, her brown her was curled around her face and slightly pink rouge gave her a healthy look. A long black, tweed-coat followed her figure down to her knees. Simple blue jeans showed beneath until they disappeared inside ankle-boots without heels.

"Looking for someone specific?" a boy standing close to Harry asked her.

She looked startled for a brief moment before collecting herself, "Actually, yes.."

The boy interrupted her, "Well you certainly look too proper to either buy or sell."

The young woman smiled a little sadly, "I'm not here for any services. I'm here because an old friend of mine is here."

"Ah, ask him," the prostitute nodded towards Harry, "He lives here."

"Thank you," the Muggle girl said politely and walked the short distance to Harry. When she saw him, however, she froze dead in her tracks.

"Harry?" she breathed. And it all clicked in his brain, she was no Muggle, she was a witch and her name was Hermione Granger. _Not now_, Harry thought, _not after trying so hard to forget about her and Ron so badly. _Sure enough though, when he looked closer he noticed that she actually was his childhood friend. Eventually she came over her shock and rushed forward to give him a tight hug.

"I've been searching for you for so long," she cried when she released him, "I showed a bunch of people your picture and finally someone recognised you. He advised me to go here so I did. But I didn't see you these last few days, but here you are now."

"Well, I've been sick, " he shrugged. Harry didn't like the fact that she was here. He just knew she would beg him to come back, fight against Voldemort, and follow the old creep named Dumbledore. He just knew, and he couldn't take it. Although it was good to see that she was well, but he couldn't deal with her now.

Hermione gave him another hug, "I'm just so glad to see you alive, after you left we didn't think we would ever see you alive again. But I refused to give up anyway; we've been searching for months now."

"That's good and all, Hermione, but I'm not coming back, " he told her, "And I don't ever want to see you here again."

She looked hurt at him before her expression turned to a fierce determination, "You should know by now that I don't listen to what you have to say when what you say is absolutely outrageous."

Harry laughed softly, "I do know, but my reasons for being here are far greater than you could ever imagination. I won't come back, end of story. Go home, Hermione."

"I will, for now. I have school tomorrow, but I will be back, you may be sure of that," she stated and turned around and walked across the street before rounding a corner that would lead to an alleyway, probably to Apparate.

"She seemed to care about you," the boy she'd talked to first, said softly, "What's so horrible with where you came from that you'd rather stick around here?"

Harry sighed, "You don't want to know. You really don't want to know," he answered and threw the forgotten cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. Just then a shiny, black jeep drove into the street and stopped not far from Harry. He walked over to it just as someone pulled down the window.

"Looking for company?" he asked the man in a black suit and sunglasses sitting inside.

Hermione hurried across the street and around the corner where she knew Harry couldn't see her. There she stopped to watch. She couldn't believe she had found him finally. After months of searching, many were prepared to give up and claim the teen as dead. Hermione had been the one to suggest searching the Muggle World as well. And thanks to that, she had been appointed the leader of that particular search.

She hadn't had many people to work with so she sent them all on their own to search certain parts. London had been her part to search as the one with the most knowledge in how that particular world functioned. Colin Creevey had, after a little persuasion, given them the most recent photos he had and developed them in ordinary Muggle fashion. These pictures had been spread around England for many weeks now, and Hermione had also taken it upon herself to ask around.

That was how the last five or six weekends had been spent for her. Until, late on Sunday last weekend someone had finally recognised the small teen with bright green eyes and a lightning-bolt scar. The man who had tipped her off gave her the creeps and she knew by instinct that she had not been dealing with the nicest of men. But, no hard feelings, he had led her to the finding of Harry.

The thought of Harry being a Muggle prostitute had never even crossed her mind until she had been given the directions from the man. Said directions led to a part of London known for its dirty goings-on. Then, she had realised that Harry had no money, Dumbledore had frozen all of his assets shortly after he disappeared. Harry had next to no Muggle schooling and he was only sixteen. Selling himself had to have been the best, and only, option for survival.

Hermione had of course blamed herself for not realising earlier and Harry would've been found long ago, but there was really no point in dwelling over what could not be changed. It still hurt in her chest though as she saw her childhood friend jump into that shiny, black jeep before watching it drive off to Merlin only knows where to do what she knew would happen.

She wouldn't inform the Dark Lord about Harry yet, not until he had agreed to come back. It might take time and a whole lot of explanations, but Hermione was damned if she didn't succeed.

On Friday, when Harry woke up, he really didn't want to get up. Friday meant the weekend and weekend meant Hermione. He had no doubt she would show with that much stubbornness inside of her. Since the last Sunday, he'd been dreading coming Friday, and he probably would continue to do so for a long time.

Ever since her visit, even more painful memories had resurfaced once more. Memories he didn't want to deal with in his situation. Voldemort, Hermione, Ron, Remus, the Weasleys, Severus and many more had been on his mind since her visit. The happy times with them all, especially with Voldemort. It had hurt when he left the man, and it had taken a long time coming over the worst of his misery.

But now.. Now Hermione had whipped it all around and it hurt once more.

Harry absently fingered the first letter from the man he loved, the reply to the letter which had basically started everything. When Sirius had died and the pain was so raw, Harry had broken down and written a letter ranting about this and that when it came to the war. And he had actually sent it. Voldemort had, in his amusement, replied with the letter Harry was now holding in his hand. He, too, had ranted and raved about his power and the usual sayings coming from him, but in the midst of all egoism, there was actually a point to _why _he was fighting.

In his shock of actually getting an honest reply, Harry had written back as well. And so began a fierce letter exchange between the two enemies. Through the many letters they got to know each other more, they learned how truly alike they were, and how little their cause differed as well. They had joked around in these letters and had fun.

In a letter Harry got in early November, Voldemort had written for Harry to go to the Chamber of Secrets. Against his better judgement, depending on how you looked, Harry had obeyed. There he had learned that Hogwarts would never keep her children out so therefore there was nothing Dumbledore could do; Voldemort could come and go as he liked.

After that, an even closer friendship had formed and gradually turned to love. Harry had been in seventh heaven when Voldemort had kissed him the first time. And so was the story from that point on.

Unfortunately Dumbledore had found out about their relationship in early June. He had given Harry an ultimatum: Kill Voldemort or leave the Wizarding World forever. Harry loved magic, he loved what that new world had given him so Harry had agreed; he would kill Voldemort. When the time came though, and the battle on the fields surrounding Hogsmeade had broken out, Harry knew when he saw Voldemort that the man meant too much to Harry just to get to live in the Wizarding World.

Harry had left after that one last kiss. Never to be seen again until Hermione showed up almost a week prior to this day.

He knew the moment he actually got out of the bed, and his body protested, that this was going to be one of _those _days. But no matter, he had to despite the soreness from last night. Luckily Healing spells were one of the few things he had perfected with his wandless magic.

The next day, Harry stood around waiting against the outer wall on his building as usual. It was a good spot actually. The building he lived in was on the corner of the block, which meant Harry could be seen from both the larger road, and the street on which he lived. On the other side was another apartment building and behind that was the alleyway he'd seen Hermione go to. On that block was also a motel, something that also attracted buyers. Next to Harry's building another, identical, was placed. Behind Harry's was also a parking lot for those who lived there and a small kiosk. The little café he usually ate breakfast at was situated next to the alleyway.

That alleyway was also the place Harry had seen Hermione walking from yesterday when she'd come to ask him once again. He had, of course, refused and asked her a little less politely to leave. She had huffed, but promised to be back the next day, which pretty quickly turned to today. Which in itself meant Harry was on the lookout for both her and for the buyers. So far, she hadn't been seen. He couldn't determine if that was a blessing or a curse.

Once again he was dressed in some kind of schoolgirl outfit. He was short and rather thin, plus he had a girly face already so he could easily pull off the Lolita style he had chosen today.

As he looked around, he saw the boy from Sunday was back again. He saw a girl, Christina, standing against the wall of the motel. Harry had shared a coffee with her once or twice. Most of the others he saw were people he recognised, but didn't know. He also saw other people starting to come in, mostly in big, fancy cars. Most of them were rich and had lovely children with a beautiful wife. Many also came here because this was where most of the boys were. Many were afraid their homosexuality would be found out and preferred to go to hookers than find someone to love and cherish.

When Harry saw someone coming from around the corner, he automatically thought it was Hermione. But it wasn't. It was a man in his early thirties with brown uninteresting hair. He wore simple blue jeans and a jacket of some kind, which revealed a white sweater underneath. He had a strong built and pretty tall. The man had his eyes set on Harry as he walked towards him.

When the man was no less than three or four metres away, Harry walked up to him and fluttered his eyelashes up at him. The man blushed, which in itself was strange.

"Looking for someone specific?" Harry asked and pouted a little.

"Uhm, yeah, you, " the man answered.

"Aww, thank you, sir, how long would want?"

The man seemed unsure before answering, "An hour?"

"Excellent, and what would you want?" Harry stroked his hand down the man's chest.

"Whatever fits in an hour," he nodded to himself. They briefly discussed payment before walking towards the corner to come to the motel. All the while the man seemed unsure of himself. He kept rubbing his hands together in a nervous gesture.

"New?" Harry asked softly and the man nodded. Once outside the opening to the alleyway, he grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him in there. Harry followed, he knew better than to fight it. What surprised him next was that the man insisted on paying in advance, when asked he just answered he wanted it over with. Once again Harry knew better than to fight and accepted the money.

Then they just waited, they just stood there. When Harry tried to do something, the man told him off. That, was very strange indeed. But nothing was worse than when the man slowly changed into a young woman; a young witch to be precise.

"Hermione!" he hissed at the girl, his anger disguising his embarrassment, "Why in the name of Merlin did you do that?"

She had the nerve to smile at him, "I needed to talk to you, and now that I've paid you, you're mine for an hour. How about coffee or something in the café?"

Harry glared at her, but followed her out of the alleyway and around the other corner to get to the café. The bell over the door rang as they went inside. Harry followed the girl who now had a similar outfit as the other times he'd seen her, back into a secluded corner and a table for two. A waitress came to take their order; Hermione took coffee with cream and sugar while Harry took his black.

As soon as they received their order, Hermione discreetly warded around them. He was a bit jealous that she could use her magic freely like that, but she was of age as she was almost a year older than him.

She continued to smile softly, and sadly, at him, "The boy I talked to told me you lived here," she started.

"I do," he bit out coldly. He was not comfortable at all in this situation.

"Why?" she asked nicely and took a sip of her coffee.

"Easiest," he replied.

Hermione nodded, "I can understand that, " she sighed. "Listen, everyone misses you."

"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, I can't come back."

"But why?" she questioned desperately. Harry saw the pain in her brown eyes.

"Because, Hermione, I just can't," he explained, "Dumbledore will.." he stopped himself.

"But Dumbledore is dead now, he can't do anything. The Dark Lord and.."

Harry choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken, he coughed gently to be able to speak, "The Dark Lord? Since when do you call Voldemort the Dark Lord?"

She smiled brilliantly at him, "Since I took his Mark, of course."

His eyes widened, that was unexpected indeed. Yes, Voldemort didn't want to kill Muggleborns, he was, actually, rather interest in how they, without any magical parentage, could have magic. It was the Muggles themselves he was worried about and how the Ministry was run.

Hermione apparently saw his confusion, "Ron and I, took it after we found out about Dumbledore's ultimatum and your love for the Dark Lord. What Dumbledore did to you was horrible and inexcusable in my book. So we went to the Dark Lord. We weren't the only ones either; the Weasleys left the Order and became neutral."

"Dumbledore is dead?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Painfully?" he continued.

"Awfully so, it took a month to break him to even speak of his crimes and another week until he died from his injuries. A lot of us assisted in his torture; the Dark Lord, me, Ron, Severus, Lucius and Narcissa, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, Remus even bit him so he transformed once. There were many more than that as well. Many from the Light who did it because of you, Harry, because we love you and miss you."

Hermione reached over the small table and grabbed his shaking hands, "The Dark Lord loves you, he tells me so every day, " she said softly. Harry looked with tear-filled eyes at their connected hands. It didn't take long before a single tear dropped down and formed a small pool of salty water on the table. Soon enough his shoulders started shaking in his suppressed sobbing. Hermione let go of his hands and walked around table and half-kneeled beside him. Harry flew in her outstretched arms and he let go of his restrictions and cried openly.

The young witch just held and gently stroked him on the back, "I miss him," Harry cried in her shoulder, "I miss him so much."

She shushed him, "I know Harry, I know, " she whispered, "It's time to come home."

Harry let her go and sat back. He used his fingers to dry away the tears and noticed the black colouration of the eye-liner smeared but ignored it, "I can't come back 'Mione, not now, not after what I've done."

"Would you rather stay here and endanger your life every time you follow someone knowing you had the chance to come back, but didn't take it?" Hermione coaxed him, "If he loves you the way I know he does, he wouldn't think anything less of you."

"Does he know?" he hiccupped.

"No, no one except me knows I've found you, least of all what you've been doing," the girl smiled again, "I can have a dozen Death Eaters here in a matter of seconds and we can bring you to Hogwarts to have Madam Pomfrey check you over. You'll get the chance to clean up and new clothes and then you can see the Dark Lord."

Harry thought long and hard over his decision. He didn't notice how much time had passed until Hermione got up from her kneeling position and her joints cracked. He looked to her as she sat down on the other side of the table again and took a sip of coffee before spitting it out again. Probably was too cold, he thought.

He took a deep breath, this was the hardest decision in his life save for when he decided to leave, "Don't call them. Too much attention, I'll just.. come on my own." He nodded to himself as if it would make more sense of he did.

Hermione stood up again, "Then come on, I'm sure you have a place you need to stop by before we leave."

He nodded again, "Just a few things I need to pick up," he responded quietly. It amazed him how calmly Hermione took the news of everything, but he didn't comment on it.

They excited the small café and walked closely together until they reached the apartment building Harry lived in. He lived a few floors up but they had to take the stairs. The elevator had been broken for several weeks and no one had come to repair it yet. The whole place around there was pretty filthy and low-class. One of the reasons for the low rent, but it suited its purpose, housing the whores working outside.

Harry shakily unlocked the door to his own apartment. Moans and groans could easily be heard from the apartment two doors down the hallway but Harry so used it by now he didn't notice it that much. Hermione looked a little distressed but did her best to be strong. _So like 'Mione_, he thought, _always there to lean on when you need it_. Suddenly he couldn't quite understand why he had refused to talk to her last Sunday.

Once inside he threw off the shirt, folded it and put in the laundry basket. He glanced at Hermione who got the hint and turned around. He then took off the rest of the clothes. The money from Hermione and his wand were thrown on the bed for now. In the cupboard closest to the TV he sorted out to the clothes he wore when he left. Harry took a quick shower. Technically he was clean as he had showered less than three hours ago, but since he started selling himself he felt dirty constantly.

After the shower he put on the clothes he'd laid on the bed. Hermione now stood and looked out the window and not at him. She did look like she couldn't deicide on whether to cry or to smile so chose on nothing.

Under the bed was the box containing the few Magical items he still had; the Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, the shard of the broken two-way mirror. He also had a few of the letters from Voldemort in there. He gathered everything in the pockets of his robe, including the money.

At his point Hermione had turned around, "You know, your assets are unlocked again, " she stated when she saw him taking the money.

"Oh," he replied but then thought of something, "I'll take them anyway."

She looked strangely at him but, once again, didn't comment, "Are you ready to go?" she said instead.

Harry looked around the room to see if he'd forgotten anything, "I don't have any emotional ties to this place, let's just go."

She nodded once and walked to the door, Harry followed her. Together they walked the many stairs down again. Out on the street Harry walked over to the boy still waiting for someone.

He held out the key to the apartment and the money, "Here, it's not much but it should help for while at least," he smiled at him.

The teen looked warily at him, "You're finally leaving?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I am."

The other hesitated at first but then took the items, "Thanks."

"You're welcome, take care of yourself." Then he and Hermione turned their steps to the alleyway once more that day.

"Forgive me but.."

Hermione cut him off, "I understand. They all need all the help they can get."

Harry didn't say anything more and less than a minute later they stood in the alleyway. Hermione gave him his hand to take him on a Side-Along. He, too, hesitated. Images of Voldemort flashed through his mind. Could he really come back? A look at the young witch made him decide, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't take chance no matter what it could lead to in the end.

Harry grabbed her hand and soon felt the almost forgotten feeling of Apparation.

I think the reason I waited this long was that I wanted to make it longer, but now I see that the length is quite good and it covers what I wanted, so yeah, it's finished. I _might _write a sequel some time though, but that's just a maybe. I hope you all like it, and that you let me know what you think. I myself love this story, and I cried along with Harry when writing it.


End file.
